


Today, right now, I need to hear it.

by welovethebeekeeper (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff. Declarations., M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/welovethebeekeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John enters 221B with a revelation. A short story full of fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today, right now, I need to hear it.

John came into 221B and stood; he did not remove his coat, he did not greet Sherlock. He just stood and looked as if he were about to say something.

 

"Something wrong?" Sherlock asked, placing the book he was reading down onto the arm of his armchair. “You look upset, this early in the day I would say that it is wife related, an argument at breakfast?"

"Yes." John did not return eye contact, instead looking down at his own feet. 

"Well I do hear that newly weds experience ‘Trouble in Paradise’ around the six month mark. I am sure it will pass. We have a corpse at Bart’s that is waiting for us this morning." Sherlock’s eyes gleamed with anticipation of the task ahead.

"She left me." John stated in a flat tone. “She gave me a warning two weeks ago, but this morning she actually followed through."

"She left  **you**?" Sherlock sounded shocked, so much so, that John finally looked at the detective. He saw genuine shock and disbelief on Sherlock’s face. “Why?"

"Why do you think Sherlock?" John held his hands out in a gesture of exasperation, his voice gaining in volume. Sherlock looked at him, speechless, visibly searching his brain for an answer.

"John, I would be the last person in the world who could answer that question. I have no idea why anyone would leave  **you.** ”

“ _You_  left me." John huffed.

"The only reason  **I**  would ever leave you would be in order to save your life. Or I suppose if I did genuinely die. There exists no other possibility" Sherlock ‘s voice revealed the truth of the statement; sad, regretful and with a slight hint of vulnerability. “Why any woman that has your love would walk away from you is unfathomable to me. If it were I, then I could never…." The detective swallowed and stopped himself from saying anything else.

"I need to hear the end of that sentence." John moved closer and locked eyes with Sherlock. “Today, right now, I need to hear it. I need to know why I push women away, good women, women I care about. Why I feel slightly relieved that my marriage apparently is over after only seven months. I need to hear from you…the bloody end of that sentence."

Sherlock was out of his depth, the discomfort showing in his face and body. He looked at John with terrified eyes. ‘If it were I then I would never squander your love, I would cherish it and return it tenfold."

Silence. Eyes that could not disengage. The air heavy with fear, relief, possibility.

"Thank you." John finally let his breath escape his lungs. “For being brave. I know that took a great deal of courage." The doctor flopped down into his old armchair. Sherlock stood up, uncertain if he should obey his instinct to flee. “Finally." John smiled up at him. “Finally we arrive. I for one am exhausted Sherlock." He saw the confusion in the detective’s expression. ‘I love you, you know I do. I run everyone off because all I want is you. Sit down and give me five minutes to feel the utter relief of this moment. Then we’ll head to Bart’s and the awaiting corpse."

"Not going to have a crisis over your sexuality? Inappropriate anger vented at me for ruining your marriage?" Sherlock sat back down, leaning forward onto his knees suddenly intrigued by the response from John.

"No. Playing way past that now. OK, so we **are a couple,** don’t argue with me about that, I’m moving back in and we will do what ever it is that we feel, or you feel comfortable with, if that is OK by you?" John looked at Sherlock for direction.

"Good. Fine. Sorted." Sherlock stood once again. “Shall we?" He took the Belsatff off the hook behind the door. John stood and came up behind him. His arm reached up and his hand patted Sherlock’s curls. Sherlock stilled. “John?" he asked tentatively.

"Because I bloody well have waited for years to be able to do that. So expect more of it and no complaints." John smirked, pushed past the detective and went down the stairs.

 

 

source of gifs  ssherlockholmess 

Your post inspired this little fic. Thank you.


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